Father's Night
by TrinityWildcat
Summary: The Ninth Doctor reflects on the events of Father's Day.


Father's Night.

Summary: Shortly after the events of "Father's Day", the Doctor looks back at the past.

Rating: G

Disclaimer: I don't own the copyright, and acknowledge the legal rights of those who do. I will make no profit from this story.

She's asleep now. I said I wanted to tinker with the engines, so I parked up in Australia in 6000 BC, where it's nice and quiet, if a bit hot, and we won't be bothered. She went to bed, and I'm hanging around in the TARDIS's control room. She was practically asleep on her feet.

It's not surprising, really. Been a bit of a tiring week.

We've been all over the place since she messed up. Saving her Dad's life like that after I told her she couldn't. Just as well he really was a good man, otherwise apparently I'd have died. Lunch for a Reaper - what an undignified way to go.

An ordinary man. Most powerful thing that exists. And what happens to him? He has to say goodbye to his kid, then go and die to save the universe.

I've been trying to make things better. Take her to some interesting places, show her some of my favourite bits of the cosmos, cheer her up a bit. I took her forwards to see Earth after the great clean-up operation of 2453, when they regrew the Amazonian rainforest and reintroduced dolphins and tigers and elephants to the wild.

After that, we went back in time to meet Queen Nefertiti of Egypt and see one of Earth's oldest civilisations. They got on surprisingly well, Rose and Nefertiti. All girls together, I suppose. I was half-thinking I'd have to go find another human to travel with, but then I pointed out to Rose that the ancient Egyptians never invented chips, and potatoes wouldn't grow in their climate anyway, so we agreed to move on.

She seems better during the day, but she's still crying at night. Well, what did I expect? She must have been thinking all along _'he travels through time, maybe he can help me save my dad'._

Can still hear myself saying, "I did it again, didn't I? Picked another stupid ape."

Maybe I should apologise for that, but I'm not going to. Rose needs to learn the hardest thing of all about being with me. I can't fix everything. Half the time I'm not even sure what I'm going to do next, and sometimes I have to do the hardest thing of all, which is nothing. Just let history take its course.

I should apologise, though.

It's me that was stupid.

Rose can't help being a 19-year-old _homo sapiens_ from a stage in history when they'd barely cracked the whole democracy thing, let alone space travel, fusion technology and limitless power, the great interbreeding of humans with other races, upgrading themselves with new technology, the Great and Bountiful Human Empires that will spread throughout the universe. Her species has got it all to come, but right now they're stuck in that horrible in-between stage, where they can't live as separate tribes any more (or races, nations, call 'em what you like), but they're still stuck with the age-old tribal primate instincts. Protect your own. Look after your tribe and your family.

I'm _supposed_ to know better than her. You don't _ever_ put a human in a situation where they can prevent someone sharing half their DNA from getting killed, and expect them to stand by and watch instead. People think of that as being for parents with children, but it works the other way, too.

(Oh, _that's_ interesting. Humans have this phrase, _déjà vu_, for when they feel like they've just done something that they did previously, but without realising it. I have it the other way round. Just had it now. That parent-child DNA thing is going to be important at some point in the near future. Oh well, I'll know it when it happens.)

I should apologise, but what I am going to say?

I ought to be thinking about that, anyway. She's already started giving me The Look.

I remember from being me, previously, the earlier versions of me. They always get that look, after a while. Like they're trying to work out the right way to say it.

Maybe I should help her out. Just say "So, do you want to know how my people used to reproduce, then?" Except then she'd be really cheesed off with me for making her feel bad, and then we wouldn't be speaking again. It's only natural for her to be curious, and besides we're only just back to normal anyway.

I'm being too harsh. It's a natural thing to wonder, anyway. I mean, I look like a human, funny ears and all, but I'm not one, and I think Rose is only really just beginning to understand that.

I'm not going to apologise. What am I going to say, anyway?

That I wanted someone else to understand, even just a little bit, what it's like to have to stand by and watch your entire family, everything that matters to you, die, because it's the right thing to do?

Forgive me, Rose.

The really bad thing is, she _does_ understand, now. After I caused her to watch her dad die, three times.

"Sorry" doesn't really cut it, does it? I can't change the past. Not that bit of the past. Not the Time Wars bit of the past.

If Rose ever does get round to asking that question, what I am going to answer?

That it doesn't matter, not anymore.

I'm the only thing that remains of Gallifrey. After I'm gone, no more Time Lords.

I'm the last of my kind.

Sorry, Rose.


End file.
